


A Familiar's Key

by Yosei



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Blood, Blood and Gore, Familiars, Headaches & Migraines, M/M, Magic, Nightmares, Oracles, Sorcerers, Violence, Will Graham Has Nightmares
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-15 06:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4596549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yosei/pseuds/Yosei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will had lived a, more or less, ordinary life with his father in their cottage just outside of Wolf's Trap village. Eventually, Will had gotten a wonderful dog and made a friend of the bright, spitfire girl from town, Alana Bloom. He and Alana had even planed to marry one day. Will thought he might spend his life with her in Wolf's Trap... but then his headaches grew worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Truth Does Not Garner Peace of Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Oh gosh I've wanted to make a Hannibal/Will fic for FOREVER!! I love these babes so much I was afraid of messing up their character, but the fear is gone and replaced with a good rage (school sucks) so enjoy the fruits of it!  
> Also! I will be tying to work on what people have already prompted me until I hopefully finish my long list. Sorry for being so slow!! QAQ

The first thing that Will could remember were greens of tree leaves in the forest and the calm blue irises of the man he would come to know as “father”. The man's first name had been lost over time, but the last had become legendary as “Graham the Wanderer” a traveling oracle that has foretold the massacres of villages and the downfall of kingdoms. The first thing that young Will had learned about his father was that he was a cryptic man that only appeared when he felt he was needed, or wished to be found.

Will had been named simply and lived just as simply in a cottage just outside a little village called Wolf's Trap. Learning everything he needed to know from his father and the large selection of books he had grown up with, he hadn't needed much and rarely left home. When Will had turned six he had started to have minor headaches. When he told his father of the aches, he had calmly laced his fingers into the curls on either side of Will's head and the chilly coolness of his skin soothed the pain back into nothing. By the age of ten the aches had grown to cover his whole head like a crown of scalding metal that burned from inside the veins under his skin. This was when his father's cool hands had stopped working completely. Will couldn't stop the tears from streaming down his face the entire night as his father murmured strange mantras and gently hushed him until he could fall asleep from exhaustion. He was reluctant to close his heavy eyelids, completely sure the sleep would be filled with terrors. He, unfortunately, had been correct.

Will dreamt of a grand stone palace with carpeted halls, lined with arches, windows and long drapes stretching from ceiling to floor. He found himself drawn to a room that might have been a study with the way that bookshelves lined each wall. Reading at a desk, in front of the room's largest window, was an ashen blonde boy with an expressionless face and dark eyes, filled with too many beasts and shadows for his age. The boy looked in his direction as he entered the room, but didn't really seem to see him. Out of the corner of his eye Will saw an even younger girl, with the same hair color in long curls, who kept trying to get the boy's attention or hold his hand, but the boy didn't seem to notice her at all and just kept staring at Will. Will tried to speak, but his lips felt sealed shut and when he glanced at the little girl who had stopped bouncing around his skin went cold as he stared into her empty eye-sockets. The girl's golden locks fell from her scalp in bloody clumps and when she started crying, a few pearly white teeth and a tongue joined the mess at her feet. Will wanted to scream, but he couldn't make a sound as the little girl fell apart before his eyes as if someone was chopping her into little pieces, the blood splattering everywhere but on the young boy who had resumed his reading. The girl's blood slithered like snakes towards his body, but Will couldn't move as the hot red liquid crawled up his skin, covering him and enveloping him until all he could see was rot and death. Will had woken up crying silently as his body shook in terror. Something of living and real nightmares had happened to that little girl. All he could do was hope and pray to the gods that it really was only a dream as his father wiped his face and calmed him down before going to work.

The next night when his father had come home, Will was presented a small mutt that was colored with browns, blacks and golds all over its body in random patterns. There seemed to be a strange fresh burn mark just under his chin, but his father had told him that it was nothing to worry about as he lightly tied a cloth around the mutt's throat. He had named the little puppy Winston and with the swell of joy he had gotten over having this new best friend in his life, Will had simply forgotten about his headaches and the fact that they had disappeared within Winston's presence. 

A few months after that, Will was playing in the meadows outside the cottage with Winston when the much bigger puppy dashed off around the house. The following high-pitched shriek had Will sprinting after the mutt in alarm and finding his puppy perched over a young girl, tail wagging as he licked her cheek into oblivion and she giggled uncontrollably. She had dropped her basket when she had been attacked and Will picked up a few of its food items, thankful that they were wrapped in more protective cloths and he wouldn't have to repay her. He gently shoved Winston away who pranced right around the girl to sit next to Will and silently ask for a nice scratch behind the ears. With those big hazel eyes, Will couldn't even try to deny him. Though he did at least manage to help the girl to her feet and hand her the basket back first.

“Are you okay?” Will asked, his eyes glued to Winston partially because he loved his puppy and partially because he never had to deal with people by himself before. His father usually handled all the interactions with villagers when they had come up to the cottage, realizing that people had started living there again. Will had only had to make a few token greetings for appearances sake, but now he was confronted by a stranger all by himself. Well, he thought as he scratched Winston's chin, not completely alone.

“Yes, I'm okay.” the girl giggled as her pretty blue eyes watched Winston with delight. “I love your dog, what is his name?”

“Winston.” Will answered tersely as he blushed. He hadn't really been around many people or girls—outside of over-attentive housewives occasionally coming by to coddle him and sneak a look at his father with horribly hidden curiosity—and he had no idea how to really talk to one. The girl didn't seem to mind as she reached into her basket and pulled out a chunk of a pastry which she fed to Winston before Will could protest.

“Hello, Winston! I'm Alana.” She smiled widely and began giggling again when Winston woofed seemingly to answer her with a 'nice to meet you.' “What's your name?” 

“What?” The little smile that had grown dropped off his face as those blue eyes focused on him.

“Your name. Don't tell me you haven't got one.” She joked as her eyebrows raised accusingly.

“Oh, um, Will. Nice to meet you.” Will, startled, was spun around to face her before Alana took his hand in an almost violent hand-shake.

“Nice to meet you too, Will! I think we'll be great friends.” Alana, the spitfire girl, had told him with a kind of conviction that was new to Will. He almost wanted to believe her and with her never-ending kindness and perseverance, he ended up doing so. 

Years passed and the two of them (along with Winston) became inseparable. Eventually Alana had gotten Will to end his hermit vows and visit the village with her where she worked with her parents, the town bakers. She had confided in Will that they weren't her real parents, but she loved them all the same. Will had, in turn, told her that he'd never had a mother and Alana had promised to share hers with him. Will was confused, but Alana had explained that if they got married then her parents would be his too and when Alana's mother had finally met him she had taken to the idea just as quickly, giving Will a job so the two could stay close together. And so Will became betrothed to Alana if only in their own foolishly young words. 

By the time the two had reached the cusp adulthood at eighteen, Will's headaches had begun to return at full force. Winston was now a very old dog and although he was still playful and happy, he had become very fragile and weak, choosing to stay in his bed in the cottage more often then not when Alana came to retrieve Will for the day. During a particularly slow session of work at the bakery, she made an appearance.

“What can I get for you, Ms. Lounds?” Alana asked kindly, but not with any real kindness. She hated the red-head they had grown up with just as much as Will did. After all, she had spread so many rumors about Will and his father that many of the villagers had grown wary of the two of them out of fear of curses, black magic, and whatever the hell else that Lounds had told them. Sure his father happened to possess a rare power for the day in age, but it was just the ability to see ahead in time and maybe alter for the best, not to bring harm or cause ailments, but it didn't help that no one knew what his father did during the day. As for Will, he was awkward because it was very easy for him to read people and he knew that was strange, so he tended to be more quiet. The red-head had blasted that out of proportion with her most recent lie by saying that anyone who met his wandering eyes would instantly be cursed to die in three days. And people believed her!

“Oh, Alana, I just came to check on you of course.” She threw on a worried mask and pretended that Alana's well-being mattered to her. She put a hand in front of her mouth to hide her lips, but that did nothing as she whispered very loudly “With that hanging around you, I'm afraid for your safety. He might do something to you.” Alana gave her a bland look for a moment before 'whispering' back.

“'That' is my future husband and frankly he keeps me very safe. He even protected me from your brothers' unwanted, disgusting attentions. Oh-” Alana pouted rather adorably, pulling the worried facade on much more cleanly than Lounds could ever hope to. “I'm so sorry you have to deal with those things and to think they're related to you by blood.” The red-head bristled instantly, obviously not used to someone talking back to her or insulting her prominent bloodline of writers for the only newspaper in the village. Will saw what Lounds was planning to do on her face long before she actually did it, giving him ample time to place his body in front of Alana as the red-head picked up a full tea pot, that had been sitting on the counter for guests, and threw it at them. Will had actually been the one to craft the clay teapot and it was his second try so it wasn't very surprising when the weak craftsmanship broke on his shoulder-blade spilling the burning liquid down his back. Lounds nearly screamed in frustration at not hitting her original target, but she left with a sated blood-thirst for the moment nonetheless. Will silently thanked his luck that Alana's parents weren't in the bakery yet because the situation would have gotten even further out of hand. Trembling and delicate fingers reached up to touch his face and Will glanced down into Alana's miserable blue eyes.

“I'll be fine, Alana. My father practiced healing for a period of time... I'll just head home now, if that's alright with you.” Will joked lightly, but Alana, still in his arms, didn't find it so amusing.

“She just burned you Will!” she screeched as tears floated in her already red eyes. “Why did you-” she bit her lip and tucked her head under his chin.

“Well for one, your father would have my hide for a carpet if I didn't keep his precious treasure safe while he was gone-” the rest of whatever he had to say left him in a quick little exhale as Alana lightly punched his stomach. “I mean, that tea could have been scalding, but because you didn't do your duty of refreshing it, it was just really hot-”

“Gods! Will, just shut it.” Alana tried to stay angry, but she couldn't help but start laughing like she always did when Will was trying to cheer her up. When he finally did part from her, his head began to ache as if fingers were harshly pushing at his temples.

“I'm just going to-” he jabbed his thumb towards the door with a forced smile.

“Just go! I swear, that had better not scar-” she was about to start ranting, but Will was already out of the door and quickly finding his way back home. He would have been more worried about Alana being alone in the bakery, but he caught a glimpse of Alana's parents returning just as he made it to the final secluded trail that led to the cottage. As soon as he had gotten though the front door, he slammed it shut and fell to his knees as the pain finally began to fully stab into his skull so intensely that his vision faded in and out. He tried to crawl in the direction that he thought was his room knowing that Winston was all the comfort he would have until his father returned later in the evening. His best friend met him half way, curling up on the ratty rug around Will's head, trying to make it better in his own way. Somewhere along the line between whimpering and screaming, Will had simply passed out from the pain.

“Wi... Will... Will, wake up.” his father started calling to him sometime later. He cracked his eyes open slowly only to see very tired and troubled blue eyes.

“What's wrong, father?” Will asked, but his throat was so dry the words almost didn't make it out at all. His bleary eyes glanced about the room. Half of it was blocked by Winston's fur, the mutt still protectively curled around his head, but when he caught sight of the state of the room he sat up much faster then his head would have liked. “Were we robbed?” He asked in alarm as he scanned the mess of ripped books, paper, and wrecked furniture. He turned his attention back to his father who was searching his face with sad, calculating eyes. “Father-”

“Listen to me very closely, Will. This,” he gestured to their ransacked home “is your doing.” Before Will could start babbling questions the older man went on, his words taking on that secretive lilt that meant he had seen something that hadn't yet come to pass. “My dear boy, you are gifted and cursed. You see into the hearts of men, but you cannot stop looking. You are human of heart, but were never actually a human to begin with.” The oracle held up a scarred hand to stop Will from trying to talk. “You will be very powerful, but even I do not know if you will have any power at all. Will, you are what magic folk would call a 'familiar', a being that holds great magic and is the only key to it, but unfortunately you must offer that key to someone else in order to save yourself from destruction.” Graham gently ran his fingers through Will's curls and thumbed the edge of a cut that had opened up on the boy's temple.

“A key... I don't understand.” Will's voice wavered, but he couldn't care less with how exhausted he felt. “How can all of this be because of me...” There were too many questions to ask all at once, so Will could only hope that his father understood, but once again, the cryptic oracle didn't seem like he was going to give up answers anytime soon. Off to the side Winston was still trying to wrap closer to his body and all Will wanted to do was wrap the dog in his arms and sleep-

“Will, are you listening?” the urgency Graham's voice cut through the haze building in Will's eyes. His father seemed to think rapidly for a moment before a realization donned on him and his scared hands gripped onto Will's shoulders tightly, almost viciously. The oracle's blue eyes bored into him as he ordered with a look of devastation and hope clashing on his face “You must find the Stag-”

“Y...yes, I hear you. I don't understand, though. Why are you... so upset?” Will's vision was starting to go out as his body drifted back to the floor, his heavy eyelids beginning to close without his consent. He felt a light and chaste kiss pressed to his forehead before everything went dark.


	2. Sleep After the Storm is Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will didn't want to leave, Wolf's Trap was his home, but even he was not strong enough to keep his fate from unraveling, the bloodied threads slipping through his fingers as his world fell apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO READER:  
> WARNING: Sort of major character death. I'm sorry QAQ

The following morning, Will had woken up on his bed to healing ointment drying on his back and a wrecked home. His father's room, which was now clean and empty, held no evidence of the older Graham having lived there at all. Weeks went by without a single sign of his father returning and Will's pain had grown so much that he couldn't even feel bitter any longer. All he could do was wait and hope, but in the back of his mind he knew it was hopeless. He had become something... dangerous and his father abandoned him.

“You must find the Stag.” 

Those had been the last words his father had told him. Over the years that Will had lived with the oracle, he had learned much from him, including the history of underlying magic that thrived in the world and reined over humans in the form of lords and ladies that served a human king. There were many lords in the world, but his father had only taught him about one before dropping the topic completely. The Sorcerer of the Stag was a man that had held his position since childhood with powers far greater than any had ever seen. While he had been powerful, he was still indebted to the worldly human king as all magic is, ever since the first king saved the life of the first Magus, the mother of all magic users. 

Will knew he would have to leave Wolf's Trap to find the Sorcerer, but he was reluctant to do so. The cottage he had lived in didn't mean much, but he hated the thought of leaving Alana behind, even though he was sure the woman could fend for herself. And then there was Winston. The old dog could barely walk anymore, much less travel or feed himself if Will left. He couldn't leave. Even when the whole town was against him, Alana and Winston were the only safety he knew now that his father had disappeared. Will continued to work at the bakery for a almost a full week before fate decided to make the choice for him.

“Are you alright, Will?” Alana placed a delicate hand on his bony shoulder and he gently took her hand and guided it away from him under the disguise of not wanting her to get burned when he went closer to the large ovens. 

“Yes, I'm fine.” He lied terribly. Will was a mess. He had kept his physical appearance as together as he could as to not worry the Bloom family, but with the way he'd been rapidly losing weight and sweating as if he had the flu, it was not easy to hide. If there was one person who was enjoying his suffering, or at least sickly benefiting from it, it was Freddie Lounds. The woman had been seemingly working day and night to alter Will's public image into that of some kind of possessed monster. And with the way that Will had been nearly fainting or screaming from the pain of his headaches, it probably wasn't a hard image to sell. Which was why Will was only half surprised when a group of townsmen, following Lounds, entered the bakery.

“It's time to give it up, Graham.” Lounds called as Will came to the front to stand besides a shocked and angry Alana. “The people know what you are now-”

“And they figured out I'm just a scapegoat, right?” Will let out a hollow laugh. Of course the superstitious people of Wolf's Trap wouldn't even realize that Lounds had them all wrapped around her little finger. Alana took hold of his hand in a tight grip.

“He's not going anywhere. There's nothing wrong with him-”

“That's where you're wrong Alana. There has always been something wrong with him. Ever since the oracle left, he's gotten worse. Objects move and break around him without him touching them, people suddenly become ill, crops have been dying, don't you see Alana? Will isn't like us, and he's become unstable.” Alana looked as if she was going to jump over the counter and strangle the red-head, but Will held her hand a bit tighter to prevent that before letting go entirely. If this was how things were going to be, he couldn't have Alana standing up for him any longer. He would never allow her to get hurt for his sake.

“And what exactly are you trying to achieve here, Freddie?” Will almost sighed. This had been going on since they were children, but it seems as though the rest of the town had finally gone to her side.

“I strive to protect this town by letting everyone know when there is a snake in the grass. Then we'll drive them out.” The last bit was said with such an air of triumph that Will was actually nervous to ask his next question.

“And how do you plan to do that?” Will asked slowly as he finally made eye-contact with the menace.

“By destroying the center of the infection. It all started with that cottage. It was raised in a day, and now shall be destroyed in less.” Her smile spread as Will's eyes widened and he scrambled through the back of the shop at a sprint, bursting through the back door and tearing up the path to his cottage. He heard Alana calling after him, trying to follow, but he couldn't stop. The cottage meant nothing, but the books, the intricate talismans and items his father had given him and Winston... they were all his life was when he wasn't with Alana and now he had to cut her off or risk getting her hurt. By the time he reached the end of the path he was panting and dizzy, his headache holding an insistent clawed grip on his temples, but he kept moving until he could hear Winston's barking, could see the wide open door to the cottage and the few men ripping things apart inside. Winston was nearly rabid in his rage that strangers dared enter his master's home, and Will was almost proud until one of the men approached the old dog from behind with an ax and swung. The barking stopped. It felt like something had cracked... Will stepped into his home and looked at the limp mound of blood-soaked fur that used to be his friend. The pool of crimson spread across the floor as it spilled heavily around the still-imbedded ax blade. The blood seemed to reach for him as he walked closer, uncaring of the nervous men that had paused in their pursuit of ripping apart his life. He gently moved to kneel as his cold fingers skimmed over the soft, matted fur before coming into contact with the ax... Will could feel something new, a burning pain as strange markings crawled up his skin. The ax shifted by itself and jerked out of Winston's body with a sick wet sound. Will couldn't really register the sound of the men screaming as he hugged his dog one last time before falling to the floor beside him.

-+-+-+-

“Oh, Gods.” Will could hear Alana's hushed voice from behind her trembling hand as she surveyed the room of massacred bodies, the walls almost painted completely with their blood as bones and flesh still soaked in the pools on the floor. Will groaned from the center of the room and cracked his tired eyes open at the sound of her voice.

“A-Alana.” Will tried to stand, but his body protested any movement and he fell to his knees before he could even really get on his feet. His head was pounding worse than it ever had before when he had an... episode. Alana was by his side in a moment, supporting his weight as best she could before he fell on his face, but Will gently pushed her at least an arm's length away. “You... you have to get out of here.” His throat clicked when he tried to swallow, the words sticking and barely coming out as a hoarse plea.

“Will-” she reached a trembling hand towards him, but he shook his head and it fell away before her clean fingertips could touch him.

“You... need to leave-” He coughed abruptly, his lungs and eyes burning as he repressed the need to throw up the non-existent contents of his stomach. He chanced a look at the woman he had grown up with and immediately regretted it. Tears streamed down her face freely as her lovely eyes displayed her misery and fear, but she stayed because she did genuinely care for him. “Freddie was right,” he gave her a rueful sort of smile as he grabbed the corner of a blood splattered desk and shakily pulled himself to his feet, ignoring how warm the red liquid still was. “I am unstable.” Will laughed bitterly as he tugged on the wardrobe door, shoving away the body that was against it at the same time. He pulled out a rucksack of amenities he had been gathering during his indecision about leaving and threw it over his shoulder before making his way towards the front door.

“W-where are you going?” her usually strong and confident voice cracked as she held back another sob, hugging herself as she stared at the wood floor with unseeing eyes.

“To the Sorcerer of the Stag... Hannibal the Grave.” Will paused in the doorway, he could hear birds chirping merrily, unaware or uncaring of the events that had just happened inside. It was surreal, but if he even slightly glanced down at himself, the evidence was all there. It wasn't a dream, or a hallucination, it was his new reality. “Goodbye, Alana.” Wolf's Trap was no longer his home.

-+-+-+-

“Our Lord is unavailable to the likes of you.” The guard sneered as he glared down his nose at Will. 

Will was aware of how dirty and mangy he must look with the days he had traveled on foot to reach the palace in the woods that the Sorcerer ruled. He had just barely remembered to wash most of the dirt and blood from his face and change clothes just before reaching the front guards. The water hadn't done much for his knotted curls, horribly worn clothes and sick complexion though. 

“Please. You don't... understand.” He was surprised he was able to still croak out the words after so many days without talking, except for cursing in pain. His headaches hadn't calmed down much, if at all, during his journey and it was enough to make him feel as though he had some kind of internal bleeding in his skull. “I need to see the Sorcerer. Now-” Will had known it was a lost cause, but he didn't expect to be punched in the stomach for his troubles. The sneering guard openly smiled as Will crumpled to the ground before delivering a swift kick to the same place he had previously struck. 

“Get out of here, you filthy mongrel.” the guard spat at him before resuming his position with his counterpart in front of the archway that led to the grand palace. Will could barely feel the pain in his torso over the blooming destruction that was ripping apart his head. He needed to find the Sorcerer before...

“Please.” Will wheezed as he crawled forward towards the guards again and just as one of them posed to strike him, he threw sand into both of their faces before dashing forward past the arch and all the way across the long stone courtyard to the front doors of the palace. He shoved the grand door open and ducked as one of the guard's spears pierced the wood directly where his head had been. Will shut out the rage of the guards that he could feel and ran through the castle pushing his way past servants and guests alike. He knew that the palace was huge from the outside alone, but being inside was like navigating a labyrinth and soon enough he found himself lost with the guards' shouting still at his back. He stopped in front of a large pair of gold-encrusted doors and yanked them open as a second spear just grazed his side, the sting nothing in comparison to the barrage of emotions from the people inside the room. Will grit his teeth against the sounds and stares of the guests apparently dining, but that was all he could make out before a weight slammed him to the floor. The shocked shouts echoed off the walls as did the grinding of his weak bones under the guards knee. “I need to find Hannibal-”

“Don't you dare utter our Lord's name!” The guard cracked his head into the stone flooring and Will screamed as the pain tore through his senses and he couldn't hold onto the searing power any longer. The guard was flung from him and the stone flooring began to crack under the pressure from his hands. He glanced up one last time to see the people who were about to paint the walls with their lifeblood, but all he met were surprised maroon eyes set in an almost familiar face before soothing cold hands slid along his temples and eased the ache. Will's eyes rolled back as the pain suddenly became nothing and every inch of him gave into exhaustion as accented words slipped between thin lips.

“Sleep, little one.”


End file.
